A appear to persist in the same measure, except for certain fountains which, gathering a supply of water situated on the surface through the force of rains and snows, spring up like torrents; these, in the manner of a winter stream, both cease and increase with the flow from above. But in those from which an everlasting current pours forth, with no decrease or increase occurring, it is necessarily acknowledged that nothing of the moist substance is consumed. For it is not possible for that which is being consumed to remain for all time in the same measure; nor would even fire, if it truly has the nature of consuming water, remain at its own measure, B devoid of growth and nourishment. For it is not possible for the nature of the consuming matter of fire not to increase. If, therefore, you, being one who investigates these and such matters, and one who extends yourself to all lofty things, and who desires yourself to see those things which lie in the darkness of the vision of Moses, and to reveal them to the multitude, would consult your own prudence—not to look to another, but to flee to the grace which is in you, and to the Spirit of revelation, who, being entreated by prayers, will reveal the mysteries of divine and most high things. But since, according to the apostolic law, we ought to serve one another C through love, and since it is the characteristic of praiseworthy service to bring what is commanded into deed, I shall endeavor, by your prayers assisting me, to explain these questions briefly, as far as it is possible, using your prayer as an ally to my discourse. And let this be testified by me before the undertaking: that I in no way contradict the holy Basil regarding those things which he philosophized concerning the generation of the world, even if the order of my discourse should lead to another exposition. Let his writings therefore be ratified, and let them stand firm, yielding to no monuments except those written by the dictation of the Holy Spirit in the Testament. D Yet whoever reads our own, and finds anything beyond common opinion, let them receive it as a matter probabilistically discussed for the sake of exercise in discourse, without injury to anyone. For it is not our proposal to defend or to constitute a dogma, so as to give occasion to those who slander, nor in these writings to hand down a doctrine of interpretation, but only to exercise our own mind and thought on this subject. Let no one, therefore, expect from us that we should involve ourselves in questions which are proposed to us either from Holy Scripture or from those things interpreted by our master, which seem to fall into common opinion, for as much as do not seem to accord with common understandings. For that is not my proposal, to devise some defense for the contradictions which appear at first sight; but let it be allowed to me, by authority, to examine the meaning of the statements toward the proper goal, if perhaps it might be possible for us, with God’s alliance, while the word remains in its own proper significance, to conceive an interconnected and consistent theory regarding the creation of the things that have come to be. "In the beginning," it says, "God created heaven and earth," and all the following things which the discourse contains concerning the generation of the world; these are the things which were brought to pass during the six days. But it is necessary, I think, before the examination of the things written, to agree upon this
A with the Word: that in the Divine nature, power is concurrent with will, and the will of God becomes the measure of His power; and the will is wisdom. Now, it is the property of wisdom not to be ignorant of how each thing might come to pass. And power is naturally joined to knowledge; so that at the same time He knew what was needful to be done, the power which produces existing things came together, bringing that which was conceived into action, and leaving nothing left over after the knowledge, but the work is displayed joined and inseparably with the will. For the will is power likewise, and it is that which deliberates as to how existing things might come to be, and provides the causes for the existence of the things conceived. So that all things of God regarding creation—the will, the wisdom, the power, the essence of existing things—are to be understood as one.
This being the case, one would no longer be straitened or troubled while searching into the matter, seeking the "how" and "whence"—as we are accustomed to hear those say: "If God is immaterial, whence is matter? How is the quantitative from the non-quantitative, and the visible from the invisible, and from that which has no magnitude and is infinite, that which is defined by some bulk and size?" and all the other things seen regarding matter, how or whence did He bring them forth, having nothing of that kind in His own nature? For there is one solution for us for each of the things proposed regarding matter: that it is not possible to suppose the wisdom of God is powerless, nor His power unwise; but that these things are joined to one another and displayed in both, so that at the same time and in the same way, the one is seen within the other. For His wise will is manifested by the power of the things in action, and His operative power is perfected in His wise will. Therefore, if wisdom and power are in the same and at the same time, He neither is ignorant of how matter might be found for the construction of existing things, nor is He powerless to bring what He has conceived into action.
B Being able to do all things, He laid down together, by His wise and powerful will, all things out of which matter consists for the production of existing things: lightness, heaviness, density, rarity, softness, resistance, wetness, dryness, cold, heat, color, shape, limitation, and extension; all of which are, in themselves, conceptions and mere notions. For none of these on its own is matter, but by concurring with one another, matter is formed. If, then, by the excellence of His wisdom and power He both knows all things and can do all things, perhaps we are approaching the high voice of Moses, who says: "In summary" (for this, instead of "in the beginning," Aquila has rendered it) "God made the heaven and the earth." For since the prophet has composed the book of creation as an introduction to the knowledge of God, and the purpose of Moses is to lead those who are enslaved to their senses, through the things that are seen, to those things that lie beyond sensory comprehension; and as our knowledge through the eyes is bounded by heaven and the earth—for this reason, the Word named the furthest limits of the things known to us through the senses as comprehensive of existing things, so that by saying that the things which encompass [the rest] were made by God, he might include everything contained within those limits
A and instead of saying that God made all things that are, all at once, he said that God made the heaven and the earth "in summary" or "in the beginning." But the meaning of both terms, both of "beginning" and of "summary," is one and the same. For the instantaneous is indicated equally by both: for in the "summary" it posits that all things have been brought to pass collectively, while by the "beginning" it signifies that which is indivisible and has no extension. For the beginning is foreign to any notion involving intervals. As the point is the beginning of a line, and the indivisible atom is the beginning of a spatial bulk, so is the instant the beginning of a temporal interval. Therefore, the instantaneous foundation of existing things by the ineffable power of God is termed by Moses a "beginning," or "summary," in which it is said that the whole consists. B Having mentioned the extremities of existing things, he indicates by implication those things which are in the middle, as being concealed by the extremities. I say "extremities," because of human perception, which can neither penetrate beneath the earth nor transcend the heavens. Therefore, we must understand that the "beginning" of the cosmogony acts as an assumption that God, in an instant, laid down the seeds, the causes, and the powers of all existing things, and in the first impulse of His will, the substance of each of the things that exist came together—heaven, ether, stars, fire, air, sea, earth, living creatures, plants. All these were seen by the divine eye, and were made manifest by the mode of His power, to Him who, as the prophecy says, "knows all things before their birth." C But to the power and wisdom imparted for the perfection of each of the parts of the world, a necessary series followed according to a certain order, so that fire might go before and appear before the other things which are observed in the universe, and after that, that which necessarily followed the precursor, and after this a third, as technical nature compelled, then a fourth and a fifth, and the rest in accordance with the sequence of what followed next—not by any automatic chance, in some disorderly or random motion, but appearing in the way the necessary order of nature required for the arrangement of things. But just as the necessary order of nature demands what is consequent in the things that come to be, so he says that each thing came to be, in the manner of a narrative, recording the natural doctrines for each of the things that exist, for that which is done well and with divine wisdom is directly the voice of God. For since we do not know the essence of God, we believe that we have apprehended God in the mind by taking hold of His wisdom itself and His power itself. D For this reason, when the whole universe was created, before each of the parts which fulfill the whole was revealed by itself, darkness was poured over everything; for the radiance of fire had not yet shone forth, being hidden within the particles of matter just as stones remain invisible in the darkness, even if by nature they contain within themselves the illuminating power, producing fire through their striking together, the spark having appeared from them, and they themselves appearing together with its brightness; thus were all things invisible and unseen, before the illuminating substance came forth into the manifest. For just now, all at once, in the single impulse of the divine will through philosophizing. And [he ascribes] certain commanding voices of God, fittingly, while also doing this. For everything according to a certain sequence and
A without distinction as the whole was subsisting and all the elements were mingled with one another, the fire that was scattered everywhere B lay in darkness, suppressed by the weakness of matter. But since its power is swift and agile, as soon as the impulse—the permission given by God to the nature of existing things for the generation of the cosmos—was provided, it leapt forth before all things that are heavier, and immediately everything was illuminated by the light. And what was done according to the reason of wisdom, by the power of the Maker, was recorded by Moses as a commanding Word of God: "And God said, Let there be light, and there was light." For in the case of God, according to our conception, the act is a word. Because everything that comes into existence, comes into existence through a word; and nothing—not even anything [that seems] unreasonable, accidental, or automatic—is thought to exist in those things established by God. Rather, one must believe that in every one of existing things there is present a certain wise and technical reason, even if it is beyond our perception. What, then, did God say? Since such a voice is representative of reason, we shall understand it, I believe, in a god-befitting way, by relating the utterance to the reason inherent in creation. For thus the great David also interpreted such voices for us, saying: "You made all things in wisdom." For the commanding words of the creation of existing things, which have been recorded by Moses from the divine voice—these David called the wisdom viewed within the things that have come into existence. Hence he also says that the heavens declare the glory of God, namely C of the technical theory appearing in them through the harmonious revolution, which takes the place of speech for those who are knowledgeable. For having said that the heavens declare and the firmament announces, he corrects those who hear the things said more crudely—and who perhaps expect the sound of a voice and articulate speech from the narration of the heavens—in that he says that there are no speeches nor words whose voices are not heard, in order to show that the wisdom viewed in creation is a word, even if it is not articulate. And again, after Moses had said that certain detailed voices of God had occurred to him during the performance of the wonders of the signs in Egypt, the Psalmist explained it more loftily than the surmise of most people, saying: "He set in them the words of his signs, and of his wonders D in the land of Ham." For by this voice the Psalmist clearly hinted that the creative power of each of the things coming into existence was brought into action by a certain reason—as if the word did not consist in utterances, but in the power concerning the signs, which is thus named. Accordingly, in this case too, the illuminating power of the nature [of things] surged ahead and was distinguished from the rest of the existing things in the speed and agility of its nature, separating itself from the things of a different kind, and everything that was encompassed was illuminated by its radiating power. But it belongs to God alone to explain the reason by which the substance of fire accomplishes these things, he who implanted the illuminating reason in nature; and this the great Moses also testifies through his own writing, when he says: "And God said..."
Let there be light." A This, as I suppose, shows that the work of light is a divine utterance passing beyond all human comprehension. For we, indeed, look only upon what is coming into being, and we receive the miracle with the senses. But where the fire is being prepared and is suddenly born—whether it is leaping forth from the collision of pebbles, or from the friction of some other things against one another—and what the power is that devours what it takes hold of, and illuminates the air with flame, we are neither able to see nor to form any concept concerning this. But we say that the reason for this paradoxical wonder is hidden in God alone, who, according to the ineffable logic of His power, caused the light to be born for the fire. Just as Moses in his own discourse testifies, saying: "And God said, Let there be light, and there was light; and God saw the light, that it was good." B For it truly belongs to God alone to see how that which is so good could come to be; but the poverty of our nature, while it sees what is happening, is not able to see or to praise the reason according to which it happens. For praise is of things known, not of things unknown. C "He saw," therefore, he says, "God, that the light was good, and God divided between the light and the darkness." Again, whatever happens according to the natural order and harmony, Moses refers to divine energy; teaching, as I suppose, through what has been said, that all things were foreseen by the wisdom of God, such as those things which would happen in accordance with some necessary order in succession. For when that illuminating essence, which had been sown and dispersed throughout the universe, ran together toward what was kindred to it, and gathered itself entirely, those things which were covered by the rest of the material of the elements were necessarily shadowed, and this shadowing was darkness. Therefore, this which happened consequentially, so that no one might attribute it to some random, fortuitous occurrence, Moses declares to be the work of God, who had bestowed this capacity upon created things. D And that the nature of fire is swift, tending toward things above, and always in motion, is clear to everyone from what is seen; but what the discourse suggests to us to understand as a consequence of this principle is recorded historically by Moses in the form of a narrative: "And there was evening, and there was morning." For who is ignorant that with creation understood as twofold—into the intelligible and the sensible—the entire effort of the Lawgiver now tends not to explain the intelligible things, but to show, through the things that are perceived by the senses, the ordering of things subject to the senses?
Since, therefore, the fire, which by its nature tends most swiftly upward, having darted forth like an arrow shot from a bow, had leaped out from the other elements before the rest of the universe, and having passed through the other things akin to sense as quickly as one can think, it was not able to extend its straight motion further, because those things which are perceived only by the mind have no part in a communion with those which are exposed to the senses, such as is even
A possible for fire to be mingled: therefore, occupying the highest region of the world, it necessarily makes a circular motion. For by the inborn natural force it is compelled to be carried with the universe, but it has no room through which it might proceed in a straight motion, because all things that are exposed to the senses are contained within their own boundaries; and the fire, as I have said before, does not receive the course of that which is perceived only by the mind, and for that reason it performs its revolution prosperously in the highest region of the world. Therefore Moses, considering the motion of fire, does not say that the light that was created remained in the same parts, but that, by a vehement motion, it went around the thicker mass of things, bringing splendor to the darkened places and leaving darkness for those that had been illuminated. B And when this succession of light and darkness had been completed at equal intervals of time in the lower region, Moses, in order to declare that none of those things which followed in order had its beginning either by chance or from any other cause, attributing the naming of day and night to God, says, "And He called the light day, and the darkness he called night (Gen. 1, 5)." For since the power of illumination could not naturally rest, when the light, passing through the highest part of the circle, reached the upper reaches, it was necessary that the lower parts should be obscured, since the thicker nature, as is reasonable, does not admit the splendor. Therefore he called the withdrawal of the fire evening. But again, when the fire journeyed through the highest circle and brought light to the upper parts, he called that same event morning, thus naming C the dawn. But let us return to the discourse a little further back, so that the order of the exposition brought forward by us may be confirmed from those things which are placed here and there in Holy Scripture. The words which contain the making of the world are thus: "In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth (Gen. 1, 1)." We have interpreted these as meaning that the procreation of all things was constituted at the same time, because from that which contains, that which is contained is also shown; for the middle things are comprehended by the extremes. Now the extremes, as far as human perception is concerned, are heaven and earth. For by these the gaze of men is circumscribed on both sides. For just as he who said that "the ends of the earth are in his hand (Psal. xciv, 4)," understood D also the middle things which are enclosed by the ends: so Moses, by the extremities, has comprehended the entire matter of the world, which opinion is indeed confirmed by the words which are interspersed. For it is written: "And the earth was invisible and uncomposed (Gen. 1, 2)." So that it might be plain that while all things indeed existed by potentiality in the first impulse of God toward creation, as if a certain power of a seed had been cast for the procreation of the world, yet in act the individual things did not yet exist. "For the earth," he says, "was invisible and uncomposed." Which is just as if it were said, it was, and it was not: since the qualities had not yet come together to it. The proof of which opinion is that it is said to have been invisible. For that which is not seen is not color; but color is
as it were, a certain emanation of the form that exists on the surface, and form does not exist without body. If, therefore, it was invisible, it was also entirely without color. Along with this, the state of being without form is also considered; and along with that, the incorporeal. Consequently, at the massive start of the creation of the world, the earth was indeed among the things that were, just as were all other things. But it awaited that which comes through the construction of qualities, which is to be generated. For by calling it invisible, the A Word indicates that not even any other quality was perceived in it. And by calling it unconstructed, it allows one to perceive that it had not yet been thickened by bodily properties.
More clearly, this thought is made evident through the translation of Symmachus, Theodotion, and Aquila; for the first of them says, "The earth was idle and indistinct," the second, "Inanition and nothing," and the third, "Nothing and nothing." For by these terms—in my view—it is indicated regarding the earth: by the word "idle," that it was not yet in actuality but possessed being only in potency; and by "indistinct," that the individual qualities had not yet separated from one another and become known each for itself, but rather the whole was seen in a certain confused and indistinct quality, with neither color, nor form, nor bulk, nor weight, nor magnitude, nor any other of such qualities being perceived in the subject in its own right according to its own definition. The same thought is indicated to us by "inanition" and "nothing." For by the word "inanition," it has signaled the potentiality susceptible of qualities; so that we might learn from this that the Creator of all B set forth beforehand a capacity receptive of qualities, and this was empty and contained nothing in itself before it was completed by the qualities.
As for the third interpretation, I think it ought to be left unconsidered, as having been derived from the philosophy of Epicurus. For he too says something similar regarding the first principle of things, indicating the unsubstantial nature of atoms through such terms as "empty words" and "nothing," which is akin to "nothing" and "nothing."
But let us proceed again to the continuity of our theory, as to how, once the highest limit of sensible nature had been traversed by the fire, the firmament followed, which the text says is the limit between the upper and lower waters. For I am of the opinion that the firmament—whether it be one of the four [elements] or something else encompassing them, as the philosophy from outside has C imagined—is not a solid and hard body. Rather, I think it is called "firmament" by Scripture in comparison to the eternal, incorporeal, and intangible property, being the outermost edge of sensible nature, which the nature of fire encompasses with its eternally moving force. For who does not know that everything solid is condensed by some sort of "resistance"? But that which is dense, hard, and resistant is not without the quality of heaviness; yet that which is heavy by nature cannot be carried upward. But the firmament is above all sensible creation; therefore, it is not D possible to think of it as anything dense or bodily, but, as has been said, in comparison with things that lack body and are comprehended only by the mind, whatever is [perceived] by the senses
A is considered coarse, solid, and firm, even if it possesses the most subtle nature that can be conceived. Merely, therefore, because it is encompassed by the ambit of fire (for whatever consists of coarse matter is encompassed), and because it is defined once and for all by its own proper limit, it was called "firmament"—on account of the natural density of its matter—in distinction to the superior things. And just as He named the light "day" and the darkness "night," so too He called that [firmament] "heaven." And the division of the waters, established by the interposition and placement of the firmament, does not conflict with this exposition, and it is in agreement with the Scripture: for thus, after those things which were written concerning the earth, there follows: "Darkness was upon the abyss, and the Spirit of God was moving over the water." We surmise, therefore, that the Spirit of God is as far from being the spirit of darkness as it is far from all evil: a fact that we can prove by innumerous testimonies B of Holy Scripture, which affirm that God is the true light and that He dwells in light unapproachable.
But the Spirit of God is by nature the same as God Himself; yet if there is one nature of God and the Spirit, and God is light, the Spirit of God must also necessarily be light. And light, in light, certainly brings about those things upon which it moves. But the water over which the Spirit of God was moving is something other than this downward-tending nature of flowing waters, which is partitioned off by the firmament from that heavy water which tends toward the lower parts. C If that also is called "water" by the Scripture, by which, through a higher contemplation, we surmise the fullness of the intellectual powers is signified, let no one be perplexed by the homonymy. For God is also a "consuming fire," but this word is understood as pure from the material sense of fire. Just as, therefore, having learned that God is fire, you did not conceive of Him as anything other than this [material] fire, so too, having been taught about the water over which the Divine Spirit moves, do not conceive of the downward-tending nature that flows upon the earth. For the Spirit of God does not move upon those things which are low and unstable.
Therefore, that the meaning may be revealed to us more clearly, let us briefly summarize the mind of these things already said: that the firmament, which was called heaven, is the boundary of the sensible creation; that which is beyond it, an intellectual creation succeeds, in which there is no form, no magnitude, no position in a place, no measurement by intervals, no color, no shape, no quantity, nor any other thing of those observed under the heaven. And let no one suspect me of introducing confusion into the contemplation of the text through this tropology, so as to agree with the opinions of those who interpreted these things before us, who say that the apostate powers D are called "the abyss," and the ruler of darkness is understood as the darkness that was upon the abyss. I would never be so deluded as to consider what was created by God [to be what is signified by] wickedness, since the word of God clearly stated at the head [of the passage]: "And God saw all that He had made, and"
A behold, they were very good." But if all things whatsoever that God made are good, and the abyss and those things pertaining to it are not excluded from the number of those things which were made by God, then these too are good in their own order, even B the abyss itself, although the light implanted in things did not yet shine around it. Therefore, when I hear "abyss" in Scripture, I say that a multitude of waters is signified. For thus it is defined also in the Psalm, saying: "The abysses were troubled, the multitude of the sound of the waters." By hearing of the "darkness" around it, I understand that the enlightening power placed in the nature of existing things had not yet appeared. And, being taught C by Scripture that a separation of the waters took place through the firmament, I do not think I am doing anything unreasonable, or alien to the significance of the name, if I conceive of a separation in the water, so as to believe and be persuaded that the nature of each is different: that the one is upward-tending and light, and lighter in its buoyancy than fire, so that it remains above the hot substance, neither being moved along with the motion of what is beneath it, nor being D restored by heat to an opposing arrangement, but remaining itself undiminished, and allowing no passage through itself to the fire running beneath. For how could that which lacks matter accommodate a place for something that consists of matter? But that other water is that whose nature we recognize by sight, and touch, and taste. For as for the water which is carried here and downward, and is seen to be transparent, and is known by taste, its nature having been surveyed and understood, we are not compelled to transfer it to any other concept.
But as for that water which is spoken of there, which is A neither seen, nor flows, nor is held at all by any such limits as those by which the moist nature is accustomed to be contained, but is outside of place and devoid of every quality known to the senses—if the Spirit of God is borne over it, and it is believed to be above the heavens, and it is superior to all things known by the senses—I think there is no one among those capable of judgment who would believe it to be B anything other than common water, and who would not think that its nature is not subject to the senses, but is comprehended by mind and intellect alone. For we have conjectured from what has been examined that everything that is moved is contained within the intelligible nature, and has its turning about itself. And to those things that are moved, the limit of the spatial nature is what has been reached, beyond which the intelligible and non-spatial nature is found. Therefore, the topmost limit C of the sensible substance, beyond which there is nothing of such a kind as is known among manifest things, we say is indicated by the name of the firmament, with Scripture confirming our hypothesis when it says: "And God divided between the water which was under the firmament, and the water which was above the firmament." For it is shown through these words that not even in the beginning was this [water] mingled with that other water, but in the D
A community of names, the nature was unmixed. When it says "below" or "above" the firmament, it does not mean there was a mingling of nature. For it is not said: "It was below AND above the firmament," but "this was below the firmament," and "that was above the firmament." If the one was immediately in darkness, while the other was entirely in light—separated from the darkness, which was that upon which the Spirit of God moved, and which also existed above the firmament that had been displayed in the midst—let the intelligent listener judge whether our discourse, in what has been said, has missed the mark of a fitting conception. Such, then, are our surmises concerning the first constitution of existing things, and how light does not rank second in the power of its essence, even if Scripture mentions the darkness before the light, and as much as we have conjectured concerning the firmament, and concerning the difference in the waters, whose nature is divided B into what is heavy and what is light, and provides us with the appropriate conjectures regarding each of those called by the same name. Since, however, the waters—both the visible and the intelligible—were separated from one another, and the heaven was shown to be the boundary between the dual nature of the waters—the heaven which is said to have been made in the beginning with the earth and all things that were provided for the construction of the world, but which is now perfected and named in the manifestation of the firmament, defined by the circuit of fire—and the second circuit of light again in turn darkened and illuminated the underlying subject; this also, according to the preceding sequence, was called day. Necessarily and consequently, the nature of number entered into the creation. For number is nothing else than a composition of units. And everything that is considered with some defined boundary is called a unit. Since, therefore, the circle is everywhere C complete, being defined in itself, the discourse correctly named the one period of the circle, saying: "And there was evening and there was morning: one day." And again, it did the same for the other. By composing both, it produced two. And thus the discourse gathered the genesis of number into the parts of creation, marking the sequence of the order with the names of number. "For there was," it says, "evening, and there was morning: a second day."
Since these things were done, the nature of existing things, proceeding again in order, necessarily works out what follows upon the preceding events. And a divine command precedes even this work, Moses everywhere securing our understanding so that we might not think that anything in existence subsists without God, so that the wonder concerning each of the things that have happened may have its reference to the One who made them. For while all light-bearing and fiery substance was separated and distinguished by its own peculiar qualities from the rest, the construction of the air is passed over in silence, even though it was fitting that this, too, should be the subject of physical inquiry in the second place after the account of the fire; D since it has a certain kinship with it by way of lightness, in relation to the lightness perceived in fire; and then, in this way, to discourse about the heavy nature. Moses, however, leaves out the air and discourses upon this very...
A mix, and how it gathers itself into its own hollows, being of such a nature through power and wisdom; not as if it contributes nothing to the completion of the whole world, nor as if it were separated from the power of the elements, but perhaps because air is of a nature so soft and yielding that it is receptive to everything that exists, manifesting within itself the things that are, having no color, shape, or surface of its own, but being informed by foreign colors and shapes. For it becomes shining by the illumination of light, and again grows dark when shadowed; but in itself it is neither shining nor black, but is adapted to every shape and is colored by every form of color, and is suited for every movement of those things carried within it. For it yields without labor to what is carried from either side, and automatically, by the mass of that which is moving, being cut off on this side and that, it settles into the rear. Indeed, even if liquid from a pitcher is poured out, whatever there might be within, it spreads apart for that which is being poured, and automatically re-enters B into the interior of the vessel to occupy the vacuum. By these and countless other arguments, the soft and easily yielding nature of air is demonstrated. Since, therefore, the life of men is passed in it, and almost all the power of living and the action of the senses have their strength in the air—for we see, hear, and likewise perform the perception of odors through it—it is the most sovereign of the things that operate in our life by the drawing in of breath; for he who ceases from breathing has completely ceased from living. For this reason the wise Moses left it to be understood that this element, which is companion and kindred to us, and by which we are nourished immediately from birth, is the educator of our nature with regard to its innate and related connection to the air; but the things that appear in it by the creation, according to the condition of each, he details through the Word. For when the second day had passed, again the wise and all-harmonious order of created things, by which the water was separated from the earth, is called the voice and command of God. For truthfully, whatever is done in wisdom is the Word of God, not being articulated by any vocal instruments, but expressed by those very wonders that appear in the things created. C For when the earthly quality was still mingled with the moist nature, whose would it be, save that of a truly divine power and wisdom, to thicken the earth with its proper qualities so as to compress all its particles into their kindred elements, and in that dense and packed state to press out from it the moisture that lay within it, and to separate the water that was held and enclosed in the caverns of the earth from its mixture with the earth, and to gather it into one place? For this reason Moses says that the Word of God preceded this marvelous event, explaining His command, by which I judge is signified the principle inherent in the nature of created things. "God said," he says, "Let the waters be gathered into their gatherings, and let the dry land appear D." Therefore, Moses, for this reason, says that the Word of God stood at the head of this miracle, setting forth a commanding utterance; as I judge concerning this, He indicates, through this outgoing utterance, the principle inherent in the nature of the creation. "For He said," he says, "God, Let the waters be gathered into their gatherings,"
A and let the dry land appear."
Do you see the necessary order of nature, and how, the water having been withdrawn from the earth, that which was separated from the moisture dries out; and how, when the moisture is no longer mixed with the earth like mud, the water is necessarily encircled by certain receptacles, so that, because of the fluidity of its nature, it might not perish by falling into nothingness, with nothing to constrain its diffusion? But it does not seem to me to be out of place to make mention again of the waters above the heavens. For if it is necessary that the earth be fashioned here for the reception of the waters, containing their streams in certain bays, and furnishing its own stability to the unstable nature of the waters, how can that superior water—if indeed it is water—rest upon something mobile, and not disperse, lying as it does upon something curved? For if we posit one and the same nature for both sets of waters, it is absolutely necessary that we think the same things regarding those as we observe to be the case with these. Consequently, the backs of the heavens are cleft and hollowed out into valleys similar to those in the earth, which because of the intervals of the mountains hold the water. What then will they say, when by the rotation of the pole that which is now uppermost becomes the lowest; will they invent some lids for the circles, so that the water held in suspension might not flow out from the cavities?
"The fire," they say, "is voracious, and requires some matter constantly nourishing the flame, so that it might not be extinguished by the lack of what sustains it, being consumed by itself." But I, even if the great voice of our teacher inclines toward such a supposition, will ask those who happen upon these pages not to take it ill, but to allow me to follow the established sequence. For we do not propose our own opinions to our hearers as laws; rather, seizing the opportunity from his doctrine, we contemplate a coherent order. Wherefore this argument of ours, if it does not stray from what is seemly, will be referred to his wisdom.
What then shall we answer to the objection brought forward? For we do not observe the corresponding qualities only in fire and water, but in each of the elements it is possible to find, in any case, a certain conflict between properties and their opposites. Just as, in the elements mentioned, heat is opposed to cold, and dryness to moisture, so again, along the other diameter, in the case of earth and air, there are qualities in each that stand opposed to one another: solidity and looseness, impenetrability and rarity, heaviness and lightness; and whatever else is known in each of these by its own individual characteristic is known from its opposites. Just as, therefore, in these instances it is impossible to say that one is nourished by its opposite—for the lightness in the air is not increased by the consumption of the heavy, nor does the density of the earth bring about the rarity of the opposing element, nor do the remaining properties of the one nourish the qualities of the other—so, someone might say, while cold and moisture are indeed contrary to heat and dryness, it does not follow that they are nourished by B their mutual destruction, nor that one exists because the other does not. For in this way neither would subsist, if the power of each were situated in the destruction of the other; for there is an equal power in both to corrupt the other, and the destruction of the vanquished is always born from the power of the one that prevails, and this is confirmed by experience. If some matter of fire—
A be seized, and then water be brought upon it, it is clear to see the destruction of these two in one another; for the one that prevails among them annihilates the other, perhaps each yielding to the might of the one that approaches. But so long as the power is balanced in both, or the destruction is produced equally by both upon each other, neither is nourished by the other, but the two are annihilated in each other. As therefore in the case of beasts that devour one another, it is not in their nature to live through one another, being destroyed by one another; so also with respect to the opposition of the moist to the dry, neither would be preserved in existence if the one were nourished by the destruction of the other. But it seems to me to be well held, that we should rather B interpret the reasoning as follows: since everything that God made is "very good," I say that in each of existing things the perfection of goodness is to be contemplated. For the addition of that particle "very" intensifies the meaning, and clearly declares that perfection to which nothing is lacking. For just as in the genus of animals, although we see innumerable differences, we nevertheless say that they agree in a general commendation of things, so that each one is called beautiful. Yet this praise and commendation does not refer to that species and form which is seen. Otherwise, neither the millipede, nor the land frog, nor those things generated from rotten mud, would be animals that are "very beautiful." For the divine eye does not look upon the appearance of things, nor is beauty defined by some preeminence of color and form, but by C this, that each thing, in so far as it exists, has a perfect nature. For existence as a horse does not consist in not being an ox, or vice versa; but in that, in each of them, nature preserves itself and possesses its own faculties for its own stability, and has the power not of corrupting but of preserving. Thus also the elements, although they may relate to each other differently, are each in themselves very beautiful. For each one is complete in beauty according to its own rationale. The earth is beautiful, for it does not need the destruction of the air in order to be earth, but remains in its own properties, preserving itself by means of the power naturally implanted in it by God. The air is beautiful; not in that it is not the earth, but in that it is what it is, sustaining itself by the powers D naturally existing within it for its own preservation. Thus also water is very beautiful, and fire is very beautiful, each being perfected by its own properties, and by the power of the divine will it is preserved perpetually according to the measures of its first creation. "The earth," he says, "stands forever," not being diminished, not increasing. The air is preserved in its own limits, the fire is not diminished; how then is water alone of their kind the one that is consumed? Furthermore, in the things themselves…
Furthermore, we see that in the comparison of things that exist, the fiery essence and power A strongly prevails in magnitude. And this is clearly brought forward to proof by those who have philosophized about heavenly things, namely that the sun is many times larger than the earth, so that the shadow cast by it does not extend far into the air, being contracted in a conical shape at the impact of the rays due to the excess of the sun's magnitude. If, therefore, [the earth] is so small when judged against that [sun], that together with the whole earth the water measured against it is a minute fraction of the sun's magnitude, for how much time could this small amount have sufficed for the consumption of such a great fire? Yet we see the sea perpetually flooding to the same extent, and the flow of rivers remaining within their own bounds. Does this not testify, by such an experience, that none of the moisture is consumed? But just as at the beginning fire did not have its origin in the destruction of moisture, but B subsisted by the power of the Creator, and thus in the first constitution of the element, its persistence shall be preserved unto the end, with nothing of the moist nature being harassed by the fire in order that it might remain.
"But we see," he says, "that the earth is often moistened by rainfall, then, when the sun warms the underlying ground more intensely, it becomes dry although it was soaking wet a little while before. Where then," he says, "did that moisture go, if it was not consumed by the heat of the rays? Or is it that if water in a jar were transferred to another jar, and the one that was full is suddenly empty, [someone might conclude] that because the water is not in one, it will not be in the other either?" If anyone were to apply this to the elements, he would not be mistaken. For it is the same process: for water to be transferred from one vessel to another, and for moisture to be drawn from the earth and transported into the air. For naturally, when the heat of the things above draws to itself, the moisture is lifted upward from the earth by the subtlety of its parts. C Let this be an indication of this fact: that, because of the vapors which for the most part rise from the depths of the earth as rather thick, a certain cloud-like substance seems to gush forth, and the thickness of the vapors becomes such that it is even visible to the eyes. But at other times, a certain finer exhalation of vapor occurs, which approaches most closely to the thinness of the air, nor can it be perceived by the eyes before, by gathering and condensing together, it creates a cloud. Therefore, those fine and moist vapors float in the air due to their lightness. But if a greater abundance of moisture gathering into one acquires weight, then it falls from the air in drops. Therefore, what the heat draws up from the earth and lifts is not consumed by it, but becomes a cloud; and when this is compressed, rain is produced. And since this D is again mixed with the earth, vapor rises; and this, reduced to a cloud, produces rain and showers. From this, the earth again receives vapors, which are brought together into clouds and flow down; and what has flowed down is again gathered by vapors. And thus a kind of circuit is formed, which returns into itself, and is constantly turned and revolved in the same tracks. But if you object concerning plants and seeds: I will answer that all things circulate in the same manner. For moisture flows into the shoots through the plants or seeds, and follows what is earthly: which—
when the underlying subject matter is dried out by the surrounding air, is evaporated once more toward its own kind. A Since the air is thin in its own particles, and much thinner than the subtler parts of the vapors, it lets everything that comes into it pass on to its kindred element. Thus, even dust, although it may be tossed about for a long time dispersed in the air, is finally returned to the earth; and moisture does not perish, but finds something altogether akin and similar to itself, to which, being admixed and increased by the addition of like parts, it coalesces again into a cloud, and so is restored to its own nature through drops of rain. From which it results that the parts of the world, which are seen ordered in the totality of things, maintain the same measure and proportion which the wisdom of the Creator prescribed at the beginning for the beauty of the world, and preserve it B.
I am not unaware that a counter-argument can be raised: for it is often possible to see, in the greatest heat, certain clouds dispersed through the air; if one were to direct the focus of his eyes upon them for a longer time, he would in some way refute this theory which asserts that no part of the humid nature is consumed. For the turbulent sections of a cloud, which occupy much of the space of the air, first shrink in magnitude, inflamed by the excessive power of the heat, and then are completely obliterated by the scorching, thoroughly dried up by the heat, so that not even the slightest remnant is left behind, the heat having scorched away the moisture. C This, however, can no longer be explained by the theory of vapors. For the state of things above the clouds, which lies over this turbid and windy air, does not admit anything of a heavier nature into the thinness of its own being; but all vapors and all exhalations have a limit to their upward movement in the density of the circumterrestrial air at that part, beyond which they have no power to penetrate to the nature above. For nothing of a coarser substance would remain in the thin, ether-like region. Thus, those who have recorded their observations of certain mountain peaks of immense height say that they are always above the clouds and inaccessible to winds, and that it is as impossible for birds to fly over them as it is for creatures submerged in the depths to live in the air; so that it is clearly demonstrated by all these facts D that there is some boundary established in the air, which prohibits the coarser exhalations of the earth from crossing it to ascend to higher regions. For this reason, snow remains unmelted on the summits of mountains even until summer, because the condensation of moisture in that part constantly cools the air. Furthermore, the wise men who study such things teach that the fiery streaks, which some call falling stars, are caused by the same reason: when, by the violence of certain winds, some of the coarser and more material air is driven into the ethereal region, it is immediately set on fire as soon as it arrives there overhead; and according to the impulse given by the wind, the flame flows,
B and when the wind is extinguished, the flame also dies out. It is not possible, therefore, for the spirit to say that vapors collect again during the disappearance of the cloud—as if one could hope for their return after the manner of the things mentioned below, namely the return of the moisture that had been taken up. It is necessary for those who hold the dogma that moisture is burned up to agree that it does not pass into non-existence. But for my part, while I believe that the moisture in the vapors is consumed by the excessive combustion, I judge it to be vain and contentious to oppose what is evident. Since, however, it is fitting that we should not grow weary in tracking down the truth from every side, I claim that, even when these things happen, the measure of the moist nature is preserved undiminished, and that what is consumed is in every way replaced by what is lacking.
What makes this supposition certain for me is this: in the operations of fire that occur among us, we learn by experience that fire does not feed upon all the qualities of the material it seizes, but only upon whatever it can grasp. For example, to speak of the material of oil, because the cold quality has been separated from it, the moisture in this material is easily drawn out by the heat of the fire, and a flame is produced. But it is not only into flame C that the oil is transformed by the fire, but—they say—even the moisture of the fire that arises from the oil, after the fire, becomes a dry ash. This is clearly shown by the soot of a lamp, which blackens whatever is situated above the flame; and if this continues for a longer time, a certain mass accumulates and adheres to the place affected by the soot of the lamp. From this it becomes clear that oil, dried out by fire, is changed into most minute particles that escape our sight, and thus it seeks the air, and from there it descends and settles upon the earth. That there is a diffusion of the minute particles of soot in the air can be understood from the fact that the nostrils of those who breathe this air become black. Often, too, what is spat out from the chest from within is seen to be black, because it is stained by the color of the soot as it enters with the inhalation of the air.
Therefore, it is clear from these things that the moisture of the oil was changed into dryness, but the bulk of the material did not vanish into non-existence, having been scattered into the air in the form of minute and invisible particles. Since, then, we have learned through the observed effects in this moisture that only the moisture is altered into dryness, and that the material does not entirely vanish, anyone who thinks the same regarding the whole will not be mistaken; for it is clear that the whole consists of parts. And whatever we learn in the part, we are also taught concerning the whole. That moisture is one in kind, no one, not even the most contentious, would deny. But indeed, a fine dust is created when moisture is burned by fire; therefore, every moist thing, when it comes into the fire, changes the quality in its parts, passing from the moist to the dry, but it is not entirely destroyed. Since, therefore, the constitution of a cloud is vapor, and vapor is the fine exhalation of moisture, it is absolutely necessary that when the cloud is scorched by the flame, that fine and indivisible bulk of vapor—even if it does not preserve the moist quality—does not, however, pass into extinction or total dissolution regarding its underlying substrate. For four things are considered in relation to vapor—
the moist, the cold, the heavy, and the quantity. Of these, whatever is contrary to fire is annihilated by the power of what is dominant. For neither the moist nor the cold remains such when it has come into the fire. However, the quantity has1 a kinship with the essence of fire; for fire is also beheld in a quantity, and quantity does not struggle against quantity. If, then, the quantity of the vapor is preserved, being separated from the quality of the moist and the cold—while that quality which is related to gravity, being essentially inherent in the nature of the vapor, is preserved along with the quantity (for gravity is naturally inclined to exist in both moist and dry things)—the mind will no longer labor in following the sequence of events so as to understand how water, when it becomes earth, attains a connatural nature through the transformation of the vapors in their quality. For the dry and the heavy would be characteristic of the quality observed around the earth, into which the vapor, having been burned, was transformed.
And it seems to me proper that those who have grasped this principle should not let go of the sequence of the inquiry, toward which the theory advances through probabilities, hand-guiding us toward the truth. B Indeed, it seems that for this reason the sea remains always within its own boundaries, because the addition that it gradually acquires from the waters flowing into it is constantly exhausted and consumed by the heat, which, like a cupping glass, draws up thin vapors of the moist nature. But because the regions of the Mediterranean and those that veer more toward the north seem to oppose this reasoning—since, in these parts, the sea is not greatly warmed on account of the coldness of the ambient air, and thus the production of vapors is sluggish—we shall confirm this in two ways.
First, we say that although there appear to be countless seas, the sea is one and continuous, circulating throughout the whole world, and in no way divided or separated from its own connection. Wherefore, if the southern region were to be superheated by the perpetual presence of heat, the decrease taking place there is sensed in the chilled regions, with the water spontaneously and naturally flowing downward to fill what has been exhausted and emptied out.
C Next, that the entire sea is brine, being formed from all the water on account of the exhalation of vapors, is attested by the equality of it; for dryness is unique to the nature of salts. If this quality is infused equally throughout the entire sea, then the brine will act equally in every part of it. For it is characteristic of every nature to act according to its own power. For as fire burns, and snow cools, and honey sweetens, so too does salt dry. Since, therefore, the drying nature of salt is distributed everywhere throughout all the seas, the divine wisdom having provided for this for the sake of the ease of the digestion of vapors—for the brine, through the dryness inherent in its nature, D suppresses the moist and in a way squeezes out and expels from the sea all the thin part of the water, being dominant over the moist—it is not absurd to suppose that the consumption of the moist takes place equally from all sides, with the air exhausting the sea through vapors. And that all aerial moisture becomes a cloud, and
from thence A the rains flow down to the earth, both the previous discourse has demonstrated, and prophecy teaches, attributing such a work to God, in where it says: "He who calls the water of the sea, and pours it out upon the face of the earth," and many other things. And that all the clouds are scorched by the heat lying above, and are completely dried up, we have also learned through the activity.
It remains, therefore, not to pass over the objection that logically arises for us from the things said. For someone following what has been previously examined will say: That just as we have learned from the example of oil, the material of the subject is not destroyed even after combustion, but withdraws into the air, and by the power of the fire is brought back to the earth, having consumed that which was contrary to its quality. Therefore, how can the moist nature, being always diminished, remain intact, when heat—as has been declared—dries the moisture of the vapors everywhere, and converts it into a dry quality? Why, when the moist is exhaled, and is so subject to the heat, that being divided through the vapors into fine and indivisible particles, it must necessarily change into a dry quality, is not that opinion considered more true, which asserts that there is a certain abundance of waters, by which that which has been consumed and lost by the fire is always restored and supplied? Especially since it can be confirmed B by the testimony of Scripture, which hands down that the "cataracts of heaven" were opened, when the earth had to be submerged by the waters reaching above all the mountain tops.
I, however, say that this testimony of Scripture can be refuted by another testimony of the same Scripture. For divine Scripture is accustomed to depart from the proper signification of words. What then does it want to be understood by "to open" and "to close"? For it is clear that what is shut is opened, and what is open is shut. Therefore, in the times of Elias, when there was once a great drought, this matter is explained in Scripture with these words: "The heaven was shut for three years and six months." Wherefore, by that expression of Scripture, where the cataracts of heaven are said to be opened, I think it is signified that the heaven itself had been closed at the time of the drought. At which time, since by the prayers of Elias a cloud raised from the sea sent down rain and opened the heaven, it is evident that not even then, with the firmament of heaven broken through, did the rain flow down from the waters that are said to be above it; but that "heaven" is called the air, which surrounds the earth and sets a limit to the vapors, by which they are separated from that superior, more subtle nature, beyond which nothing of those things that are heavier can breathe or rise—not a cloud, not wind, not vapor, not exhalation, not the nature of birds. C That this air, therefore, hanging over our heads is called "heaven" in Scripture, we easily understand, as we read in it "fowls of the heaven." For we know that the air is called heaven through the things that fly in it. But although these things are so, the discourse does not yet... D
resolve how the change of vapors into a dry substance A does not diminish the moisture, since it is consumed by the power of the hot substance. Besides this, it would be well to seek another sequence that might harmonize with the inquiry of the discourse; for perhaps, through more diligent application, it might fall to our lot not to miss the appropriate understanding of this question. I have heard the greatness of God's power described by the prophecy through the wonders in creation, in which it says: "Who has measured the water with his hand, and the heaven with a span, and all the earth with a handful? Who has set the mountains in a scale, and the valleys in a balance?" [Isa. XL, 12.] Through these words, I think the prophet clearly teaches that an individual measure is prescribed for each of the elements by the power of God who encompasses all things, which he calls hand, and span, and handful, curbing each single thing with its own limits and measures. B It is necessary, therefore, if God's power has measured heaven, and the water with the hand, and all the earth with a handful, and has set the valleys in a balance, and has assigned a weight to the mountains, that all things should preserve their measure and limit, with nothing among those things which God has measured and which are contained by His power being able either to increase or diminish. If, therefore, the prophecy testifies that neither addition nor diminution happens to existing things, then each thing surely remains forever in its own measure, even though the mutable nature seen in existing things changes all things into one another, turning each into the other, and again, through change and alteration, leads it back again to its original state. But that this moist vapor, being brought into flame, changes into an earthy quality, having been transformed toward dryness through calcination, has been moderately understood in the preceding discourses in the example regarding oil; C and it must be considered hereafter, if the subject matter of the vapor, having been changed into the opposite quality, can allow the residue of it, rendered thinner and more subtle by combustion, to remain above.
We may investigate this, too, by means of examples manifest to you. For indeed that most subtle soot does not remain forever here aloft in the air, but passing through the rarity of the air to its kindred element, it adheres to the earth, to walls, and to the rafters of roofs. It must be thought that the same is true of those vapors, that they are driven by the winds to the higher and fiery region, and in the change of the moist quality, they preserve the material, and being dried, they are drawn toward what is kindred and similar to them D and settle on the ground. For there is an attractive force naturally implanted in all things, so that it would seem not at all absurd if certain vapors, having become dry and earthy, should be mixed with the dryness and quality of the earth. But if everything consisted of the substance of oil, in the quality of density, vapors of that kind would be turned into a black color by combustion, and from that appearance being observed, it would be clear to anyone what was happening. But because the most subtle part of the liquid substance is not...
A in vapors, and because these—according to the previously demonstrated argument—having deposited their liquid quality in the fire, have been changed into the dry, it is necessary to believe this to be pure and airy, such that the mind perceives it to be something that escapes understanding by its subtlety. But if anyone thinks that sense is more trustworthy than the perception of reason, and seeks to behold with the eye those indivisible and invisible masses, he may—if he wishes—see the air full of such particles, whenever it enters through a window and is made more manifest by the light that shines through it. For what is invisible to the eyes in the rest of the air is seen by means of the beam, moving in an infinite multitude through the air. Whoever, therefore, fixes his eyes upon these will always find that the motion of these subtle particles is flowing downwards. That which is shown in a portion of the air is proof that the same thing happens in the whole world, since the whole is continuous with itself and the entire thing is completed from its parts. If, then, the motion of these subtle and indivisible particles through the air is always flowing down toward the earth, and it is manifest that it is not the etherial species that is being broken down and dispersed into these (for the nature of fire does not suffer such breaking down and diffusion into subtle parts), then it is necessary to believe that the matter of those vapors—whose ascent the argument previously observed—is flowing down, so that while they are liquid they are drawn up B by the hot nature, but having been scorched and become earthy, they are no longer held in the fire, but are established back toward the earth.
Just as the food within us is changed by digestion into a certain subtle quality, and to whichever part of the body it arrives through the distribution, it becomes an addition to that part; and since there is a variety of members in the constitution of the body—in the dry and the wet, and the hot and the cold—from whichever part the portion of food finds itself, it becomes that which the underlying nature is by essence (for that which prevails opportunely makes the subtlety of the distribution its own)—in the same way, the addition that is always being made to the earth through those indivisible masses becomes imperceptible. Because it grows together with every underlying thing, whatever the receiver may be in essence, it is changed into that nature; and it becomes a clod in a clod, and sand in sand, and stone in stone, and in everything everything, provided that it has received into the stronger substance that which is converted toward the prevailing nature. If anyone thinks the resistance of a stone makes such an addition difficult to accept, even if the argument follows logically, I at least do not think one should contend against those who think this way. For the theory will lose none of its plausibility if the downward flowing of the earthy matter from the parts not receiving it is transferred by the winds to the parts that do. C But perhaps someone will say that our argument does not tend toward the goal we proposed, for it was our purpose to show that the water remains always in the measure it obtained at the beginning, but that we have imprudently progressed to confirming the contrary: for whether the vapors settle in the fire or return—
A dried to the earth, the diminution of water will be equal in each case; and nonetheless, by this arrangement, the necessity of the abundance of liquid is proven, because it is consumed fully at all times. Therefore, it will be necessary for the sake of this argument to consider again the nature of things, so that our discussion may be more rightly led by it to the proposed end.
What then is the nature of things? Nothing of those things that are seen surrounding the earth in order has been established by the Creator of all things as constant, firm, and immutable; but all things are interchanged among themselves in turn. For there is a certain force in them, by whose perpetual movement in a circle all these lower things are whirled around and changed, and again are reduced into themselves. Since this change B never ceases to occur, it is necessary that all things pass into one another in turn, and travel back again through the same tracks. For nothing of these would be preserved by itself, unless it obtained its nature by being mixed with another kind. How, you ask, does that changing force travel in a circle through the four elements? For neither are any things made from any others in turn, nor does the circle of change wander equally through individual things: but water indeed is poured back into the air through vapors, and the vapors, having supplied fuel for the flame, become terrestrial, having been reduced C in a way to ash after they have been associated with fire. With these things received, the earth establishes the circle of change into itself. Nor does the nature of water again have its origin from the earth. By which reasoning it remains to be considered whether the earth can be changed into the nature of water. While we investigate this, let no one accuse our discourse of being too long. We see those things which by nature are dry, spontaneously becoming moistened by a certain natural property. As one may see in salt, in metals, D and in those things which consist of some congealing moisture. Although the property of these is dryness, yet if some liquid descends from them, they become moist, and convert their dryness into a humid quality. Such also is seen to be the nature of honey, which, dried by heat, again by some chance is resolved into moisture. But let these be omitted; for it is better that we pursue the order of the discussion from some necessary principle. We observe that individual elements are not constituted by one quality, and separated from other elements, but are comprised by various qualities, of which some war against one another, while others are viewed together and, warring among themselves, they equally cohere and conform. As in earth and water, dryness and humidity cannot be joined; yet the quality of coldness is present equally in both of them, by which the warring elements are in a certain way bound together. Water, likewise, and air are separated by gravity and lightness, but in these also, coldness is suitable to both, so that it is regarded as a certain medium link. Air differs from fire by that difference which is between cold and hot, but they are reconciled and agree by their lightness. Finally, fire is separated from earth by lightness, but by the necessity of dryness
A they are coupled, and enter into a treaty. If we wish to explain these things, let us begin thus: Coldness indeed is discerned in earth, and in water, and in air, yet in a greater degree it conforms to water, and in a way preserves its nature within itself, and repels the injury arising from dryness by that resistance which it has against the hot.
Just as, therefore, natural dryness is present in the hot, nor can fire be shown to exist alone in something else: so it must be said that coldness is joined and bound to the moist. But if the moist and the cold together constitute the nature of water, and the cold quality is naturally present in the earth: it follows that, by potentiality, water exists in the earth, and earth in the water. For the natural coupling of the moist with the cold does not permit one to be thoroughly separated from the other: but even if it should happen at any time that the one exists separately in itself, it is not absolutely alone, but both are discerned in the one by potentiality. For as, when the moist is diffused into the air, the coldness pursues the particles of the vapors: so, on the contrary, with the cold lingering in the inner parts of the earth, moistness does not abandon its kindred quality; but the cold force, which is naturally present in the earth, becomes as it were a seed of the moist nature, and always brings forth from itself the quality joined to it, when that force of changing converts the earth into water through B vehement coldness.
If anyone asks from us the reason and cause of these things, and inquires what force might equally convert the solid into the moist: we shall not have an answer, just as in all other things, namely, how water is diffused into the air, and how that which tends downward should rest upon the light, and the heavy be converted into the light. For we perceive by sense itself that these things happen, but we cannot explain by reason how they are brought about by nature. But if anyone wishes this opinion to be proved by experiments, we shall easily demonstrate it by bringing forward the example of wells. For if you dig up dry earth, you will not forthwith encounter water, C but first you will feel by touch I know not what dampness; but if you proceed by digging deeper to colder places, you will find a more miry clod: but if you descend to still colder places, some turbid water will appear; but if, beneath the very lowest soil, where it is less likely that the heat of the sun should penetrate, you should happen upon some stone, although the density of the stone itself may seem to withstand it, yet certain veins are opened, from which the dug well is filled on all sides by flowing waters. Therefore, what happens in a place excavated and hollowed out by hand and labor, namely that humor flows into the well from all sides, it is right to believe occurs in every place: since that water which is collected through thin humors is led through certain veins to wider channels, and the humor naturally gathers itself into one, and
A in this way water is generated, moistening the earth with cold, and the moisture, being constituted from the cold, perfects the whole nature of water within itself. When it has already been gathered and has become a stream, wherever it finds a path, it opens a mouth in the earth. This is called a spring. A proof that cold leads to the generation of waters is that places near the north and those that are colder abound more in waters. For sunny and southern, wet places would be equally watered, if the absence of cold did not hinder the generation of liquids. Just as water from rain, collected from the dripping of drops, becomes a torrent—yet if one considers the drops themselves separately, each one will seem a small thing, and as nothing—so also is the quantity of liquid that is always being constituted droplet by droplet from below. When the gathering of these thin drops becomes a single stream from many, such a thing is rendered into the nature of a river. B But the one who rejects these assumptions, whence could he suppose that the perennial rivers are supplied? Could he perhaps imagine some lakes within the hollows of the earth? But even these, unless they had an inflow, would be emptied in a short time, so that of necessity he would think that other lakes lie above them; and the logic of the argument would search for others to replenish those; and if he posits other lakes lying above those, he will necessarily investigate what sources have the fullness of the others. And thus, proceeding to infinity, the argument will nowhere stop, piling lake upon lake, so that the lakes at the springs do not fail, until it reaches the sources of the final ones, from which the generation of water takes its beginning. Since therefore it is likely that the cause of the primary nature of water has been discovered, it would be much more reasonable to conceive this regarding the formation of springs, and not to imagine subterranean lakes, from which immediately the downward tendency of the nature of water stands in opposition to the argument. For how will that which has a nature of downward flow move upward? Furthermore, how vast will be the masses of such lakes C that must be imagined—which, while such perennial quantities of water flow out for all ages, and nothing is ever replaced, yet are not emptied or exhausted! It is clear therefore from what has been said, that water does not fail the rivers, because the earth is transformed into it. The magnitude of the earth, though so much abundance of water breaks forth from it, is not diminished, because it is constantly restored by the dried vapors. This being established, our mutual exchange of elements among themselves will no longer limp. For the order appears by which the transformation of one into the other is the cause of that birth. For example: water, lifted by vapors, becomes air. The air, dried by the flame above, is desiccated. That which is earthy is separated from the moist through the nature of fire, and being restored to the earth, is transformed into water through the quality of cold. From which it happens that without any impediment the elements always mingle among themselves D and circulate, and none of them is either consumed or overflows and abounds, but all
A remain in the measures established for them from the beginning.
It follows from what has been discussed that the waters set above the firmament are distinct from this moist nature. It is evident, after all, that the nature of fire is not nourished by the consumption of moisture; and it has been demonstrated that the hot is not nourished by the cold, but is extinguished; and that the moist is destroyed by the dry, not aided by it. Wherefore it is time that we turn our discourse to another matter, and inquire how on the third day all the stars that are in heaven were made.
That, therefore, a certain divine command directed the making of each of the wonders that were brought into being, and that we have learned by the history of Moses, which embraces these sublime decrees in the foregoing points, we have already examined in the preceding arguments, in which we understood that the divine voice is not a command expressed and explained by words, but the artful and wise power in each of the things produced, by which the wonders existing in created things are energized—this is what is meant by and called the word of God. And [we saw] that while the entire fullness of the creation together B subsisted by the first will of God, the order necessarily following thereafter according to the wisdom inherent in existing things possesses the sequence of divine commands for the manifestation of each of the elements. For Moses, summing up everything in the first foundation of the sensible creation in a comprehensive voice, indicated [it] by saying: "In the beginning God made heaven and earth." Having thus stated that he made the fullness of being, he proceeds hereafter to note in the discourse the manifestation of each of the beings, one by one, in a certain physical order.
Light, therefore, was brought into being with all other things, but it did not immediately shine upon all things, as long as the dark parts of creation remained obstructing the illuminating power. But at the moment the impetus for the adornment of creation was given by God, the fiery and illuminating power of the creation shone forth in the light and movable part of nature, leaping out before the others. And C for a while it was all gathered around itself and moving about the whole; but after this, it is again divided into its own parts toward things related and suitable to it. For it is clear from what is seen that the power of the illuminating nature is not one; but if one calls the light gathered from everything "light" by its generic term, he would not be wrong, since the divine word also signified the whole by a singular voice at the beginning, commanding that light, not lights, should come into being. But if one looks toward the phenomena, he will see a great difference in the illuminating power in the things that exist. Whence also the Psalmist says: "To him who alone makes great lights." And the Apostle: "Another glory of the sun, and D another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars; for star…"
A differs from star in glory"—implying that there is, by all means, a great diversity in the light. For even if all those things which Paul enumerated are of a nature to give light, and each is grasped by a certain individual power and glory, it would be well to call everything "one light" in a general sense, yet to observe in these the distinct and unmingled difference. If this is the case, I think we would not depart from the truth if we suppose that Moses understood it thus: that at the beginning, all the illuminating power was gathered to itself and became one light; but because there was a great difference, in more or less, of subtlety and mobility, as observed in the nature of the whole, the interval of three days was sufficient to distinguish each of these clearly and without confusing them from one another. Thus, that which was most extremely subtle, light, and purely removed from matter—the pinnacle of those things which fall under the senses (which the intelligible and incorporeal nature succeeds)—was placed at the highest point of the sensible creation. That which was more inert and sluggish, however, B remained within the embrace of the subtle and light. This, in turn, was divided into seven parts of light according to the difference of the property inherent in it, all of the particles of light that were corresponding and akin to one another being united, and separated from those that were of a different kind. Thus, therefore, as all these particles that were infused into the illuminating substance of the solar nature ran together, one great thing came to be; and likewise also for the moon and for each of the other wandering and fixed stars, the joining of the particles of each to those of the same kind made one thing out of the visible appearances; and thus all things were made. The great Moses was content to name only the more recognizable of these, the greater light and the lesser, and to refer to all the others generally by the name of stars. Now, if our mind grows weary, and being pressed by its own weight, cannot follow the subtlety of divine wisdom, let no one wonder, but rather let him excuse the weakness of our nature; with which it is dealt excellently, not if it has gone in total error, but if it has been able to attain even one thing. I say these things C looking to that question: what is the reason for this three-day interval, that so much time should suffice for the distinction of each of those things observed in the light? For it is clear that there is certainly some reason, even if it be higher than our comprehension, according to which this measure of time was prescribed for the ordering of the luminous things, with the employment of the mode of time and the quantity of the action of fire in motion, and with the division of light made according to their nature, so that, although there are innumerable differences in them, each is fixed in its own position by natural property, to which the inherent force of nature has surely led them. Neither has any confusion or D agitation followed, because of the order applied by divine wisdom according to the natural property of each, which is immutable, so that the oblique circle, or zodiac, might occupy the superior region, but in this specific one
A either this or the other configuration of the star might be wrought; and again, in an individual star, that not by chance should each of the stars lying in the figure have its position here or there, but that the property intrinsically inherent in it should guide it, that it should remain there in an immutable solidity, being held fast by the power of its own nature, according to the wisdom of Him who created it.
These things and such as these, when the mind beholds them, it grows dizzy and cries down its own sluggishness, being unable to find the reason how the extension of the three days of time sufficed for the distinction of so many stars, or how, because of the infinite distance of the inerrant sphere from the things on earth, the great wisdom of God B established the sun in the middle space of the universe, lest, since the splendor from the stars fails due to the immense interval before it can reach us, we should live in perpetual darkness. He therefore placed the shining power of the sun so far above us that the ray might neither be dimmed by the long interval, nor cause distress by being too close; or how the more material and dense body, I mean the lunar body, was pulled down to the lower region and circles the space near the earth, whose nature is seen to be, as it were, a mean, sharing equally in both the lightless and the illuminating power. For indeed its thickness of substance blunts the radiance from within, but by the reflection of the sun’s ray it is not entirely alienated from the illuminating nature. But as for the reason of the wisdom apparent in each of the beings, the poverty of our nature is unable to discern it; but to perceive a certain sequence in the things that have been made, according to the order set forth by the Lawgiver concerning the creation of existing things, is, I think, possible for those who are moderately trained to look at the consequence, that they may understand it in some way through certain conjectures.
Therefore, let us resume the sequence of the things that have been made. It is this: the universal and general light, having appeared because of its mobility, was followed by the definition of the firmament, circumscribed by the circular period of the fire. C When the light nature was separated from the heavier ones, the heavy qualities were consequently distinguished from one another, being separated into earth and water. But when the lower nature had been adorned, the thin, light, and lofty substance, because it did not all have the same constitution with itself, was divided during the interval of the elapsed time into cognate properties from that common pool; in which the infinite multitude of stars, having been spread out according to the natural property inherent in each part, runs up to the highest point of the creation, and each one comes to be in its own place, neither ceasing from its ever-moving course nor being moved from the position in which it is. But the order in these things holds the immovable, D while the nature holds the ever-moving. Next, the second
B of velocity. For each is the further removed from the one above it, in proportion as its nature is slower to move. These things, therefore, came about on the fourth day—not because the light was then created, but because, being gathered together by the power of illumination according to its inherent nature, it appeared along with the other stars, and then those which are seen to be of greater bulk than the rest, the sun and the moon. The origin of each of these had its beginnings in the first creation of light; but the constitution of each (since everything that is moved is moved in time, and the coming together of its parts requires some interval of time) was perfected within the three days. Hence, it is not absurd that the creation of the world is described by the great Moses in such a way that, as far as the matter is concerned, all things are said to have been constituted simultaneously by the power of the Creator, but the distinction of each of those things which are seen in the world was completed in natural order and sequence within the space mentioned. Then light existed in its entirety at once, and then the whole nature of the illuminating bodies appeared, distinguished by its own proper differences, among which are the sun and the moon. C And just as those things which have a fluid nature are not all of one kind, but differ from one another by a certain difference, as one may see in the case of oil, water, and quicksilver: if one were to mix them all together in one vessel, after a short time has passed, he will first observe that the quicksilver, on account of its being heavier and tending downward, has settled entirely at the bottom, even though all things were commingled; then the water, having gathered together, settles above it; and lastly, the particles of oil, having congregated, float on the surface and rest above both. In the same way, regarding the matter D proposed for our discussion, we may conjecture the same, changing only this one aspect in the example: that what occurs there because of weight, here, on the contrary, occurs because of lightness. For in the first constitution of things, those which tended upward by reason of their lightness, as long as they were driven by the velocity inherent in their nature, all ran together equally, and then, through the superiority of their speed, were distinguished from one another according to the nature and power they possessed in common. As, therefore, in the proposed example, the separation and sorting out of these fluid things did not constitute the material, but rather brought to light each one already made and previously mingled with others, clearly separated from the rest; so also, after the three-day interval of time, the illuminating nature and power of the sun did not come into existence, but that which had been dispersed throughout the universe was brought together and separated unto itself. But if anyone were to demand of us an account regarding the third heaven, which Moses did not write of, but which Paul saw, and, being as it were in the inner sanctuaries of wisdom, heard ineffable things, we will answer that this third heaven is not absent from the things that have been set forth. For the great Apostle also appears to me...
A in stretching himself forward to all things that are before him, to have passed over the boundaries of the whole sensible world, and to have entered into the intelligible state, the contemplation of these intelligible things not being performed by him exactly in a bodily manner. For he himself signifies this by his own account, saying: "Whether in the body, I do not know, or out of the body, I do not know; God knows" that such a man was caught up to the third heaven.
Therefore, I think that by the third heaven, Paul meant the highest point of the sensible world; for he divides everything that is visible into three parts, and according to the custom of Scripture, calls each of these parts a heaven. For the language of Scripture, by a certain catach resis of terms, calls one heaven the boundary of the denser air, up to which both clouds and winds and the nature of high-flying birds reach. For it speaks of "clouds of heaven" and "birds of heaven," and it does not simply call this heaven, but also includes the firmament. For it says, "Let the waters bring forth crawling creatures of living souls, and birds flying above the earth under the firmament of heaven." Then it calls another heaven and firmament the space which is considered as being included within the sphere of the fixed stars, in which the wandering stars, that is, the planets, move. For it says that "God made the great lights and set them in the firmament of heaven, so that they might shine upon the earth." B To anyone who has even slightly examined the arrangement of everything, it is clear that these things mentioned above occur below that highest pinnacle; and it (the highest peak) is what Scripture calls the firmament and heaven, as it encompasses all things subject to the senses and separates them from those created things which are perceived only by mind and intelligence.
Therefore, the Apostle, desiring those things which cannot be expressed in words, and—just as he exhorts us—looking at none of the things that can be seen, since "the things that are seen are temporal, but the things that are not seen are eternal," was raised by divine power and reached that to which his desire was carrying him. And since he had learned the Holy Scriptures from childhood, he expressed the reality itself using the customary words of Scripture, calling the third heaven the outermost of these three sections C which are visible in the world. For, having left the air and passed beyond that middle space in which the orbits of the wandering stars are carried, he transcended the outermost perimeter of the ethereal reaches and, having come to that firm and stable nature which is perceived only by the mind, he saw the beauty of Paradise and heard things which human nature cannot speak.
These things, O man of God, we have answered to the questions proposed to us by your prudence, neither transforming any of the scriptural wording into figurative allegory, nor passing over any of the objections raised against us without examination; but, preserving the proper signification of the words, we have followed the order of nature in our discussion, and we have demonstrated to the best of our ability that nothing of those things which at first glance seemed contradictory differs from the rest. As for the remaining matters pertaining to the creation of the world, D which